Shirojosei (White Woman)
by Seven-Shades-of-A
Summary: With Ciel a demon, Sebastian's contract is too lengthy for his taste. Regardless of how he's grown fond of life, a demon can only take so much. Escaping his new contract will require desperate measures. Sebastian finds he must seek aid from one of the most powerful beings in the world: an age-old Prince of Hell in white. A Prince he just so happens to share a complicated past with.
1. 1 That Woman, Dangerous

_****Spoilers for Seasons 1 & 2****_

_**So, I recently watched both seasons Kuroshitsuji and promptly fell in love with the whole premise and characters. But I was a little let down when I found they had entirely rebooted the show with **_**Book of Circus_. There was so much potential for the whole demon!Ciel story arc that they threw away. So, this is my idea of what would have happened if the writers had continued with that storyline. It's an idea I've been playing around with lately. Let me know if you think it's worth pursuing. I hope you all enjoy!_**

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><p>He had never been to this part of Hell. In fact, most demons went out of their way to avoid it. Had he not known exactly who he was seeking, and been <em>very <em>desperate, the demon would not have even bothered. But he did know who she was and he was desperate. And she was the only one who could, and even remotely would, help him.

Her home was composed of a stone so dark it made the sky and desolate land around it look pale grey in comparison. It was a castle that reached high into the deep night sky with its severely twisted towers and sharp angles. He stopped before the large double doors, trying to force down the urge to run that threatened to drown his rational mind. Or perhaps it was his irrational mind, as this errand was certainly not one any sane being would attempt.

The doors slid open without warning, revealing a pristine white that very nearly blinded him. The difference was startling and the demon took a minute to allow his eyes to adjust. Everything within the black exterior was the same shade of white. White tile floors, white paint on the walls, white vaulted ceilings accompanied by white chandeliers letting of soft white light from white candles, even the few furnishings were white. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he realized how much his presence resembled a stain in her home. It was probably how she regarded him, anyway.

His black boots clicked across the floor, echoing through the hall obscenely. She knew he was there, of course, and was waiting for him. He dreaded coming face to face with her. It was his situation, which had given him no other options, that drove him to dance with a death that would be far more than painful if he missed a single step. As he walked, specific doors slid open as if leading him to his destination.

He found her in the parlor, her back turned to him as she gazed into the white flames of the fireplace. She, too, wore the white that surrounded her. It would have been a beautiful gown, it's back plunging down to the base of her spine before flowing into a shining material that could have been sewn from water and starlight, had it not been for the long tears it had that traveled the from the hem of the skirt to mid-thigh. The rips allowed the skirt to fan out around her, revealing glimpses of the skin-tight trousers and sharply-heeled, knee-high boots. Her silvery hair hung straight as a sword all the way down to her waist.

There were no windows in her home, blocking out the dark light that would have otherwise filtered in and sullied her pure atmosphere. He noted her favorite weapon, a beautiful torture device consisting of three wickedly curved claws hooked to the end of a long chain, on the dais close to him. It didn't fool him, though. She could easily tear him apart with her bare hands if she wanted. It was why she was a Prince of Hell.

Biting his tongue, the demon knelt before the woman. It was a gesture he had only ever offered those who he held a contract with. But he knew it would be foolish not to give her the same respect. It might prolong his survival infinitesimally. She acknowledged his move with an almost imperceptible turn of her head.

"Good evening," she said, voice like steel beneath velvet. "It's quite the surprise to find you here. I never took you for a fool."

The demon grimaced, "Fate forces one into terrible situations."

"What are you calling yourself this time?"

"Sebastian Michaelis."

Her laugh rumbled through the room like the purr of a cat, "The French inquisitor and prior who wrote a classification on demons? You always were one for wordplay and clever tricks."

He waited silently, uncertain as to whether or not she was going to turn around and kill him within the next few seconds. He could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke again.

"Why so quiet, Sebastian?"

His name rolled off her tongue viciously. Each syllable seeming to be dripping with poison. For the first time since he was given the name, he found he was not so fond of it. She laughed again and the demon winced visibly.

"I know you have come to request something of me," she remarked. "Name it and I will continue to mull over how I shall end your existence."

"I would ask your aid in a…personal matter."

Her words were sharp when she said, "I had thought we already established such. Do not dawdle, old friend. It doesn't suit you."

"It is about my contract."

"What do I care for your tainted human souls?"

Sebastian smiled for the first time that afternoon, knowing what he had to say would capture her attention, "Ah, but that is why I chose to form a contract with him. His soul has steeped in wrath and envy, even tasted revenge twice, and yet it is still pure."

Her head cocked to the side, revealing a sliver of alabaster skin, but she still did not turn towards him.

"Then it is quite a feast he shall make for you," she said, her voice carefully apathetic.

"He would be, yes, were it not for a slight complication," he countered. "A demon by the alias of Hannah Anafeloz transformed him into one of my kind by the order of her human master."

"You believe this Hannah was a demon?"

Sebastian faltered at her words, "She called herself such."

There was another laugh, this one high and cold, "A mere demon has no such power. Only angels and certain powerful pagans have the ability to succeed in such a feat. Surya is the true name of the creature you met. She was a goddess before she found being a demon was more liberating. Tell me, did she travel with three men?"

"Yes," he answered, remembering the triplets well.

"She always did love her harem," the Prince muttered. "I still do not see what this has to do with me?"

"Before he was transformed into a demon, my master gave an order that I was to be his butler until the day I consumed every last fragment of his soul."

The silence that permeated the room was practically tangible. Sebastian remained in his kneel, waiting for her response. The room shook with a laugh that rivaled even the Undertaker's, though her voice remained soft, and the demon was visibly taken aback.

"Forced to be a lowly butler until Judgment Day," she chuckled. "I could not think of a more befitting fate myself. I see no reason why I should help you."

The demon grit his teeth, "I would rather die than serve any master for the rest of eternity-"

"Precisely why I shall do nothing," she pointed out.

"If you were to reverse the transformation," he spat out, "you could not only keep Ciel's soul for yourself, but use it as a bargaining chip to regain what was taken from you. You could return to your home."

Sebastian gasped as a hand tipped with long talons closed around his throat and lifted him from the floor. His human façade fell away at the woman's grip and his clawed hands tugged at the arm holding him above the ground. Gone was the beautiful Prince who had stood at the mantle. Instead, he was met by a skeletal creature with white silk bound over where its eyes should have been and rows of needle-like teeth. It ripped off the silk ribbon with its free hands, revealing white flames burning deep in its eye sockets. The entirety of Hell seemed to shake as it spoke, though the words were no more than a low rumble.

"After all you have done, you dare traipse into my home unannounced and flaunt such hollow promises to me? You, who instigated the wrath of those who made me into this. You, who turned and walked away as they took everything from me. I should rip your very essence apart and scatter you for the hounds of this godforsaken world to devour."

The demon floundered in the grip of the Prince, swirling burgundy eyes wide as he watched it. He had fought angels and reapers, but the creature before him was so much more. It had the ability to draw out a number of long and torturous states of being that barely qualified as living. Not only did it have the means, but it had a damn good reason to do so, as well. For the first time in his existence, he was afraid.

"Give me one good reason why I should trust you," it snapped. "Or I shall find such a way to punish you that Lucifer himself would be envious of the ingenuity."

This was his chance, he realized. This was the moment in which Sebastian could play his trump card. It was uncertain whether or not it would work, but it was the only piece of information he had left. The idea was a long shot, but the alternative was certainly much more unpleasant.

"My master, Ciel Phantomhive, is but a child."

He hit the floor faster than he had expected. On his hands and knees, Sebastian gave a cough before looking up. The creature had returned to its form of a beautiful woman. Her features were sharp and delicate – fey was the word humans would use, he knew, but she was a far cry from the fair folk. Her irises were pale silver that was only distinguishable from the rest of her eyes by a ring of pure black surrounding them. Her full lips tugged up in the most elusive smile he had ever seen.

It took all his strength to keep from smiling triumphantly. In the time he had known her before she had become a Prince, she had always had a soft spot for children. She had often punished those who went through abortions or committed infanticide. If the rumors were true, she had continued to do so in Hell. It seemed that some things would never change.

She looked down at him with a cold smile and empty eyes, summoning a rose into existence with the flick of her wrist. The nail of her index finger grew until it was one of the needle-like talons that had held his throat a minute before. She wasted no time in slitting her wrist and letting a few drops of golden blood drip onto the white petals.

"I will help you," she stated, holding out the rose to him. "I will save you from your fate in exchange for Ciel Phantomhive's immortal soul. You will not protest when I take it. If you attempt, in any way, to renege on your end of the bargain, your blackened soul will be mine to do with as I please. Do you understand?"

Sebastian pulled off his glove with his teeth as she watched him, revealing the contract mark on the back of his hand.

"I understand," he replied.

Raising his arm as if in offering, Sebastian watched as she ran the claw over his wrist. Red blood welled from his skin and ran down his wrist before falling onto the rose. It mixed with her own, causing it to glow like the sun before fading to a shining copper. She tucked the rose into his lapel, capturing his bleeding wrist before he could pull it back.

Kneeling down to his level, she traced the line of blood with her tongue before placing an open-mouthed kiss on the cut. The demon hissed in pain, snatching his hand back from the woman. She chuckled softly at his reaction as she stood up once more. Her hand trailed over his cheek and down the length of his jaw until she could tilt his face up with two fingers under his chin. His eyes shone scarlet, the color swirling as his pupils narrowed to slits.

"I accept your contract," she whispered, the scent of his blood on her breath. "However, there is one thing you must do before we begin."

"Anything you wish," he breathed, his own voice hoarse, though he would never dare acknowledge the true reason as to why.

That elusive smirk crossed her lips once more as her fingers carded through his black hair, "Sebastian Michaelis, give me a name."

The demon looked up at her reverently, a smile of his own gracing his features.

"Yes, my lady."


	2. 2 That Woman, a Governess

_**And enter Earl Ciel Phantomhive! So, I've brought the story back to Earth because I'm planning a Hell segment later on and wanted to play around with the dynamic of both Sebastian and our White Woman in the Phantomhive estate. After all, it's almost always entirely in Sebastian's control, but he has two pretty viable competitors now. Also, though this takes place in the anime universe, I will be bringing a few manga characters in. I hope you all enjoy!**_

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><p>Ciel Phantomhive awoke to the sound of his butler walking through the doors. Still, he did not move to get up. He buried his head further into the pillow without a sound. The <em>whoosh <em>of the curtains opening caused him to steal a glance up at the sight of the familiar black tailcoat. Sebastian turned away from the curtains, reaching for the kettle on the tray he had brought in.

"For breakfast today, we have French Toast with cinnamon, black pudding, a delicate mint salad, scones, and clotted cream. I have also chosen a lemon balm tea to accompany it."

Ciel fought the urge to throw something at his butler, instead choosing to push back the sheets. There was the sound of hot water being poured into a cup before Sebastian came to stand beside the bed. The fourteen-year-old simply sat at the edge of the mattress, only his eyes moving as he waited for his butler to come around and help him get dressed.

It was the normal routine for them. Sebastian helped his young master into his trousers, his socks and garters, his shoes, his shirt, his waistcoat, and his jacket. Ciel always put his eye patch on himself. As he tied the knot behind his head, Sebastian returned to the cup of tea he had poured and offered it to the boy.

"There is nothing particularly pressing in your schedule today," the butler announced. "However, there was a letter from the Midford estate informing us to expect a visitor."

"A visitor?" the boy echoed, stopping midway through a sip. "From the Midford estate?"

He knew it wasn't Lizzy. If it was, she would hardly forewarn them of the fact that she was coming. She would barge through the door while yelling his name at the top of her lungs. Aunt Francis wouldn't offer much better, either. Deep in his thoughts, he missed the half grimace his butler made at the thought.

"Yes," Sebastian answered. "It would seem she is a governess."

Ciel cocked his head in surprise, narrowing his blue eyes at the black-haired demon, "What was wrong with my previous governesses?"

"It would seem your aunt did not believe they were sufficient and fired them. I am told the new governess is very knowledgeable in maths, literature, history, art, and science. Sadly, her knowledge of music is rather wanting, so I shall continue to tutor you in the subject."

Between bites of his scone, Ciel muttered, "How wonderful. When will she arrive?"

Sebastian pulled out his pocket watch and raised his eyebrows, "She should be here now, my Lord."

"What?!"

The demon had to bite back a grin at the sight of his young master scrambling to his feet. It was not often that the Phantomhive mansion saw practically unannounced guests unless they were a young blonde fiancée or a particularly deluded prince from India. Ciel was used to those two dropping by at any time, but the idea of any others appearing in his home without his express knowledge made him uncomfortable. He was a strategist and loathed finding himself in the face of unexpected surprises. His butler knew this all too well."

"Why did you not inform me of this prior to this morning?"

Sebastian followed closely behind his master as he left the room, never allowing the boy to see his growing amusement. It was obvious that they were headed towards the study. If he listened closely, he could hear the Prince's footsteps as she approached the front doors. Mey-Rin would open the door when she knocked and lead her to the study, as Sebastian had instructed her to. He had asked Finny to remain out of sight until later that evening – as he didn't need the boy falling under any spell the way he had done with Angela. Bard had been told to prepare a fine lunch for them in order to appease the Prince further. All the pieces were falling into place on the board.

"I assure you, young master, I did not anticipate her arrival any more than you did."

He could tell Ciel did not believe him entirely. Still, the words were not a lie. Sebastian never lied. It was simply a manipulation of the truth. He had never anticipated that he would ever seek the help of the Prince, it was true, much less that she would ever set foot in the Phantomhive manor. It didn't comfort the young boy. Since becoming a demon, he had been able to pick up on his butler's subtleties more often. He wasn't sure how exactly.

It wasn't that Ciel didn't realize what had happened to him. He was very aware that he was no longer human. However, Sebastian refused to tell him anything on what it meant to be a demon. The only thing that the butler had actually done was take him on a brief trip to Hell. The place had been rather bleak in the areas which were not pockmarked with flaming pits. And the screams of the damned had kept him up at night. It wasn't a week before the Earl demanded they return to Earth.

The matter of the letters announcing his death had somehow miraculously cleared. Sebastian had said he would handle it and, somehow, he had. Ciel had found that none of his friends had any recollection of receiving any parcels from him. He still wasn't sure how the butler had managed it. Part of him wanted to learn such a trick for himself. Surely taking away memories would come in handy when it came to the Funtom Company.

When they arrived, the study was not empty. A woman sat in the chair across from the window, her back to both of them. Ciel caught a glimpse of silvery-white hair pulled up into an elegant knot of braids and internally sighed. Perhaps an older woman would be less strict and easier to manipulate.

"I apologize for making you wait," he said, walking around the desk to take his own seat.

Ciel stopped short as he looked up at the woman. She certainly was not as old as he had previously thought. Her face was youthful, graced with high cheekbones and a delicate cupid's bow, yet her pale grey eyes spoke of years of experience and gave her an ageless look. Her gown was a pale green, simple in design and yet it looked as though it could have cost a small fortune on her slender frame. The only jewelry she wore was a strange bracelet of three connected hoops of gold.

"You need not apologize, my lord," she replied, her voice soft and kind. "I understand that the Earl of Phantomhive might have urgent matters to attend to."

Ciel fought hard to keep his face impassive. She was not what he had been expecting, though he supposed he could see why his Aunt Francis had sent this woman. The other governesses had been loud, demanding, overly strict, and oftentimes yelled in a particularly unpleasant pitch if he spoke back to them. This woman seemed demure and unassuming, everything about her posture speaking of a delicate composure. And yet, there was something about her that seemed to demand his attention and respect.

"Thank you for your understanding. I was told the Marchioness of Midford hired you, Miss...?"

"Morgenstern, my name is Claramond Morgenstern. You may call me Clara, if it pleases you," she replied with the faintest of smiles. "My lady believed your studies were going poorly and sent me to remedy her worries."

"How thoughtful of her," Ciel muttered to himself.

"Classes will take place Monday through Saturday from seven-thirty to twelve. I expect you to be punctual unless an emergency arises. Slacking off will not be tolerated and I must warn you that I do not coddle my students. I will extend my respect to you as head of the Phantomhive household, and I request that you extend the same respect to me. Is this agreeable to you?"

Ciel blinked in surprise, the only outward show of emotion he would allow in front his guest at the moment. She was very blunt, quick to get to the point in the same way his aunt was. Yet there was still something nagging at the back of his head when it came to the woman sitting before him. It was as if there was something about her that he couldn't grasp.

"Completely," he said with the best smile he could muster, one which he often used to win people over. "I'll have Mey-Rin prepare a room for you. I must apologize for the inconvenience. The Marchioness's letter arrived a bit late."

Most people the young earl had met would have been visibly affected by his act. It had been perfected under Sebastian's careful eye, after many thinly-veiled snarky remarks. The seemingly innocent boyish smile had two effects that they had noted: instant adoration or awkward uncertainty. Clara almost didn't seem to register the expression at all.

"It's quite alright. Would you mind if I perused your library? It would be most helpful in determining your personal curriculum."

"Of course," he said, meeting his butler's eyes over the chair. "Sebastian will show you the way."

She got to her feet with a grateful nod of her head, "Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your breakfast."

Had he not been doing his best to remain composed before his unexpected guest, Ciel might have gaped at the governess. She watched him impassively as though the comment held no weight in her eyes. When he looked up to his butler, he saw Sebastian seemed taken aback, as well. It was a barely imperceptible change in his expression but the young lord instantly recognized it.

"You should perhaps brush the crumbs off your lapels before seeing guests," she explained. "More prestigious company would see it as undignified."

Without another word, she turned away and walked towards the door. It was a fraction of a second before Sebastian seemingly snapped back to his senses and opened it for her. Ciel watched her as she went, noting the smoothness of her gait and what looked like a scar hiding halfway beneath her sleeve. He would ask his butler later to dig up anything he could on the woman. At the very least, she was probably reporting back to his aunt on what he was doing. He wouldn't tolerate any more than that.

In the hallway, unbeknownst to the earl, Sebastian offered Clara an approving smile. They walked side by side as though friends or colleagues. Had anyone seen them, they would have thought such. But both were aware of the fragile tension between them.

"Your little observation will have gained the young master's attention," the demon remarked. "A risky gamble. He will, no doubt, ask me to look into your background."

"A gamble which will pay off in the end," she replied.

"You forget that I cannot lie to him. It was one of the first orders given to me."

A smirk tugged at her lips, "Come now, Sebastian, don't tell me the game is growing too difficult for you already. We've only just begun."

"I have little time for games, especially now. The young master has been particularly trying of late."

"Ciel Phantomhive certainly is a precocious boy," she said, tone laced with amusement. "He rather reminds me of someone I once knew."

Sebastian didn't miss the pointed look the Prince of Hell gave him. On the contrary, he simply elected to ignore it. He didn't enjoy reminiscing on his days as a human. He was, luckily, saved from having to respond when they reached the library doors. As they stood before the door, he could see the change as the Prince shifted into Clara. It was such a subtle change and yet it made all the difference.

Opening the door for her, he gave a respectful bow of his head, "Is there anything else I might help you with, my lady?"

"No," she answered, gazing around at the shelves. "That will be all for now, Mr. Michaelis."


End file.
